


Strangers Are Just Friends You Haven’t Met Yet

by LallybrochLoser



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:03:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23336584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LallybrochLoser/pseuds/LallybrochLoser
Summary: Once again abandoned by her boyfriend Frank, Claire calls a friend to get a ride home. But does she?
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 20
Kudos: 177
Collections: Outlander Bingo Challenge





	Strangers Are Just Friends You Haven’t Met Yet

**Author's Note:**

> This fulfills the “wrong number” square on my @outlanderbingo2020 bingo card. Enjoy! Let me know what you think :D

“Bloody FUCK!” I cursed aloud, not caring that the sidewalk was crowded with many drunken pub-goers. I had every right to be angry, and I was going to express it how I saw fit.

My stupid boyfriend, Frank, stood me up on our date, and left me to not only eat alone, but pay the bill. The reservations were made by him, at a restaurant that I wouldn’t have been caught dead at, and he couldn’t even bother to show up. The bastard is lucky I’d just gotten paid that morning, otherwise I probably would have been made to wash dishes to cover the bill.

I walked around for a while, hoping I would run into him so I could give him a piece of my mind. But the alcohol coursing through me also made me wish that he wouldn’t be alone.

I should have known better, really. Things weren’t going too great between Frank and myself. He always claimed to be “busy with work,” and I hadn’t seen him in three weeks. We used to be in each other’s company almost every night, work schedules be damned. But lately…

“It doesn’t matter now,” I grumbled to no one, “it’s over between us.”

I pulled out my mobile and started looking through my contacts list. I was too intoxicated to drive, determined as I was to drink my sorrows away, and I wasn’t up for dealing with a cabbie. Most of the cabbies in Edinburgh were sketchy at best, sleazy at worst. My vision started to cloud with tears that needed to be cried out weeks ago, and I was losing that battle of wits.

I gave up with my contacts list. I know all my friends’ phone numbers by heart.

I dialed the first person I could think of that would be willing to give me a ride home. My best friend Geillis Duncan, who lived not too far from where I was. I could spend the night at her place, then she could give me a ride back to my car and I could drive back home.

_“Hello?”_

The voice that picked up was _not_ my best friend. My heart picked up its pace a bit.

“Oh, um...I-”

 _“Are ye alright, lass?”_ The voice on the other end was just as Scottish as my best friend’s, but the roughness was...calming, in a way. It was enticing.

“I’m so sorry,” I stumbled, trying my damndest not to start crying while on the phone with this stranger. “I must have the wrong number. Sorry to bother-”

_“‘Tis nae bother, Sassenach. Now, I’ll thank ye tae answer my question. Are ye alright?”_

The command in his voice was softened by a timid kindness that was very subtle, unless you knew how to listen for it. This man, whoever he was, clearly had a way with words. And dealing with people.

Given how desperate I was, and the fact that I’d been hurt badly for not the first time, his voice alone was enough to send me over the edge. I broke.

“No...no I’m not alright.” The tears started to fall the second the words left my mouth.

_“I ken I’m no’ but a stranger to ye, but ye clearly need a kind, unbiased ear to hear ye. What can I do to ease yer pain, Sassenach?”_

I hesitated for a moment. He was right, he was a stranger. The man I was talking to could be anyone. A criminal, a doctor, someone’s husband, someone’s father…

But as of right now, he was the only one offering anything along the lines of help. So...what was the worst that could happen? 

Strangers are just friends you haven’t met yet, right?

“What’s your name, sir?” I asked tentatively.

 _“Jamie,”_ I could hear the man’s smile on the other end, and imagine it being warm and welcoming. _“Jamie Fraser.”_

“My name is Claire,” I managed a small smile myself. “Claire Beauchamp.”

 _“Yer servant, Miss Beauchamp,”_ Jamie said on the other end. I could hear the jingling of car keys in the background. _“Where are ye located, Claire? I’m at home in Glasgow.”_

My heart dropped slightly, but I figured . “I’m in Edinburgh, but I live in Glasgow.”

I heard him sigh on the other end. _“Och, that’s only an hour away. Forty-five minutes wi’ my driving.”_ His small laugh warmed me like a good aged whisky. _“Where are ye specifically in Edinburgh?”_

“Umm,” I looked around and realized I hadn’t left the front of the restaurant. “Twenty-One-Two-Twelve,” I pronounced, even though the name on the building consisted of numbers. “Do you know where it is?”

 _“Aye, I ken the place,”_ Jamie assured me, and I heard his front door shutting and him going down some stairs. _“It’s late, Claire. Isna safe fer ye tae remain on the streets. Go back inside and tell whoever is running the front desk that yer waitin’ on yer ride, and that ye shouldna be waitin’ more than an hour. Save my number while yer at it, and I’ll do the same. Sit tight, I’m coming fer ye.”_

And with that, Jamie hung up.

Before I knew it, a sleek, silver Aston Martin sports car worth more than anything I would probably ever own in my life pulled up. My eyes were so focused on the car, that I didn’t notice the driver inside pull out his phone. Two seconds later, my phone went off.

_ >>>I’m here, silver sports car out front. _

I blinked, looked up, and saw him get out.

My heart started racing.

Tall and broad, chiseled and defined, with long red hair that flowed past his shoulders in squiggly curls at the end. He looked like he wouldn’t fit in anything but an SUV.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

\---

The drive back to Glasgow was mostly silent. Not because they didn’t have anything to talk about, but because Jamie was so nervous, his words failed him. He was always the kind of man who respected silence, growing up in the Scottish Highlands, and didn’t try to force conversation on the lass in his passenger seat.

That, and the fact that the Sassenach was so jaw-droppingly beautiful, he wondered what kind of rat bastard would dare to even attempt to break her heart. And she definitely was heartbroken. He could hear her on the phone trying her best not to cry. He never considered himself a hero by any means, but if there was a woman in distress, he always felt it was right to help them in any capacity he could.

His father instilled that in him early on.

Jamie could feel his heartbeat pick up anytime Claire so much as moved or breathed. How could God have blessed him with even a moment of this goddess’ time, let alone an hour-long ride in his car back to his flat? He wasn’t taking it for granted. Even if the woman slept on his couch and was gone the following day forever, he would still be thankful she ever grace his meager existence with her presence.

“We’re here,” he said. The building Jamie called home was only two stories tall, and housed four apartment homes on each floor, but it gave him everything he needed. 

“It’s rather quaint,” Claire said.

“Aye,” Jamie replied. “It doesna look like much, ken, but it’s home. And it’s all I need.”

“You prefer to spend your money on nice cars rather than homes?” Claire quipped, which caused Jamie to laugh.

“Aye, weel,” Jamie said as he got out of the car, walked to her side, and opened her door for her, “I may or may not be sitting on a mountain of fortune and wealth due to the business I run. It’s verra profitable, though I will admit...this car is the nicest thing I own.”

“Oh, is it?”

“Ye dinna believe me?”

“No, I most certainly do not,” Claire was laughing at this point.

“Well then,” Jamie said, with an air of mischief about him, “I supposed I’ll have tae invite ye inside tae prove ye wrong.”

\---

True to his word, the Aston Martin really _was_ the nicest thing Jamie owned. Not that his flat was filled with rubbish; most of his furniture and kitchen appliances were hand-me-downs. It was something I could appreciate. He prided himself on keeping certain things that belongs to his parents, whom were both departed from this world. He seemed to have a story to tell me about each and every possession of his.

The sentimentalism of his home, and the fact that, while he was talking about himself, he wasn’t trying to sell this image of himself to me that didn’t exist. He was humble.

That was definitely one trait that Frank did _not_ possess. 

My anger resurfaced at the thought of Frank.

“Ye alright, Sassenach?” Jamie asked, genuine concern on his face.

“Well...” I was wary as to how much I was comfortable telling Jamie. _Ah, what the hell?_ I was already in his home, and he was showing me all kinds of things he probably wouldn’t divulge to random people. Jamie was trusting me. I felt obliged to do the same.

“Honestly? No. No I’m not.” And that started the conversation about what happened before I accidentally called Jamie. By the time I had explained the gists of my relationship with Frank Randall, I was seething and enraged, but I also was silently 

“That lying bastard actually gave me hope again. Hope that maybe we would find ourselves on the same page, and we could work something out. But no. He went through the trouble of making reservations at a nice restaurant, and then couldn’t even bother to call me and tell me he wouldn’t be there.

“I think that’s what bothers me the most,” I went on, sipping the glass of wine Jamie poured for me. He was nursing a whisky himself, his eyes not leaving mine. “He couldn’t even bother to call me. Had he done that, I would have been annoyed, but...” I took a deep breath, then a deep drink from my wine glass, “it would’ve been the most honest he’s been in a long time.”

“This lad doesna sound like someone ye should be-” Jamie stopped himself, and I saw him gather his wits. “I’m sorry, Claire. I ken I have no right tae tell ye how to live yer life.”

“No, please,” I implored. He looked at me. “I came all this way with you, on the small chance that you _weren’t_ a psychotic serial killer,” Jamie laughed at this, “I owe it to you to let you speak your mind. You...you’re the first person who’s actually _wanted_ to hear me out...”

“Ye dinna have good friends if that’s true,” Jamie said without an ounce of sarcasm to his tone. I looked down. He reached for my hand and held it steadfast. “It’s fine, Sassenach. I’m no’ here tae judge ye. Though...as I was gonna say...this, _Frank_ , it’s clear tae me he doesna deserve ye. Ye’d gone on faith, trustin’ his word alone, despite being let down in the past. Here in Scotland, a man’s word is his bond. Breaking it...weel… let’s just say in the days of the Highland clans...families were destroyed, wars started.

“If he canna even give ye the time o’ day when _he_ makes the plans, how d’ye ken he willna break yer heart when it matters to _you?_ ”

That caused me to think for a moment. Jamie was right. Frank clearly didn’t care enough to keep me around when I _was_ around. Who’s to say things will change? Even if we do talk it out.

With that, I pulled out my mobile, and called Frank.

It rang several times before I got a sleepy, _“Hllm?”_

“Frank?”

More incoherent grumbles.

_“Claire why are you calling me? It’s almost midnight.”_

My mouth dropped open. “Are...were you _asleep?_ ”

 _“Of course I was,”_ Frank replied as if I’d ask him if he was male, _“I have work early in the morning. What do you need?”_

Flabbergasted, I looked at Jamie. He just shook his head. But not in that annoying ‘I told you so’ way that Frank sometimes did. Jamie’s mannerisms displayed confidence in his stance, yet compassion and a gentleness I’d never seen in a man as large as him.

“Oh, nothing important, just calling to tell you I’m breaking up with you.”

That got his attention as I heard shuffling on the other end. _“What do you mean, breaking up? Why in the world would you do that? We have a good thing going.”_

“We _had_ a good thing going. But too many times, you’ve made broken promises and made me look like a fool. Tonight was the _third_ time you made reservations at 21212 and then stood me up. I had to get a ride home from a complete stranger! Who has shown me more compassion and attention in the last two hours, than you have in almost three years!”

_“Claire, I-”_

“No Frank,” I cut him off, fuming. “No, I don’t want to hear anymore of your excuses. It’s clear to me now that I am not important to you anymore. Therefore, I’m ending it. Lose my mobile number. Don’t ever call me again.”

And with that, and a huffing breath, I hung up.

Jamie hooped and cheered, clapping his hands and smiling as big as he could.

“Proud of ye, Sassenach,” Jamie threw his arms around me. My head was telling me to be scared, but my heart yearned for more of his touch. When was the last time Frank hugged me? Or told me he was proud of me?

Before I could do anything, Jamie kissed me. And not some weak, pathetic peck on the cheek like Frank used to do. No. Jamie’s lips encompassed mine as if they were made to be there. Two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly.

Jamie froze, and quickly removed himself from my person.

“Christ, Claire!” Jamie said, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. “I’m sorry! I dinna what came over me, I-”

“So, I take it you’re free tonight?” I asked as if nothing had happened.

Jamie blinked. “Fer ye, Claire...I’ll always be there.”

That one night where I was hurt, a complete stranger took a chance on me, and all I did was ring a mobile number that was one digit off.

Because of the kind of person Jamie Fraser was, is, and always will be, two years after that fateful night, I became his wife.

And he's never given me cause to regret it.


End file.
